


over before it began

by staccato



Series: Harry Mikaelson [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Reincarnation, Set in the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 09:51:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21097508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staccato/pseuds/staccato
Summary: harry is minister, draco is his husband, and there are people who aren't all too happy about that(a tiny one-shot set in the distant future)





	over before it began

**Author's Note:**

> p.s. this was written in 2017

Henrik was not in Mystic Falls when Niklaus broke the hybrid curse; instead, he was in the heart of the Ministry, a wand at his throat.

“There’s no need for violence, love,” he attempted to placate. “Put your wand down, and we’ll talk through this like civilized witches.”

The wand pressed closer. “Do not call me _love_!” Lavender Brown spitted. “What do you know about love, you psychopath? Ron is dead because of you!”

Henrik quirked an eyebrow. “So he is. And you’re here for revenge, I suppose?”

“Yes-No!” Brown spluttered.

“Well, which one is it, _love_?”

Brown growled, and sent a stinging hex. Henrik winced as the spell hit his neck. He could already feel the bruise blossoming. Hopefully his consort won’t get the wrong idea. “I’m going to kill you to avenge Ron, but it’s more than that. I’m going to stop you from murdering anyone else!”

Henrik laughed. “What noble words! Tell me, were you a Gryffindor?”

“Enough!” One of Brown’s accomplice, Angelica Johnson, interrupted. “We don’t have much time, Lavender. Kill him or I will.”

Henrik turned his attention. “Oh? And what did I do to deserve your ire?”

Johnson glared, but remained silent. Smart girl.

“Alright, alright.” Brown grumbled. She exhaled, preparing herself to committee her first act of murder, and raised her wand. “Ava-”

Henrik moved, quick as a whip, and dropped. The spell went wide, hitting the portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw. Brown has no time to apologize to the disgruntled painting before she is punched in the stomach. Johnson cursed as her partner goes down, and aimed her wand.

“Expelliarmus,” she casted. “Brachiabindo! Confringo! Diffindo!”

Henrik raised his arm, and a shield appeared in front of his body, deflecting her spells. The witch yelped as her first spell was returned back to her, though she managed to keep hold of wand and avoid the last three. The binding curse hit Brown, who was just about to stand up and rejoin the fight.

“Very good, love.” Henrik praised, somewhat impressed. He walked closer, but instead of attacking like she expected, he focused on Brown.

“Leave her alone!” Johnson hissed, but was wary enough of him to remain motionless.

Henrik ignored her protest, squatting beside Brown. He pried the wand out of her fingers, and snapped the wood easily. Johnson flinched.

“Twenty years in Azkaban should do it, I think.” Henrik declared, before rising fluidly and looking at Johnson. “And you, love? Will you continue to fight against your Minister?”

“Minister? Try dictator!”

Henrik sighed, disappointed. “Very well, if you insist.”

Suddenly, he was in front of her, his green eyes staring straight into her soul. Too late, she remember what Dumbledore had told her about Legilimency. Johnson tried to twist her head, but she couldn’t move. All she could feel was excruciating pain as her mind crumbled.

Her body followed.

Henrik stepped away, his shoes pressing again her wand as he did. With a slight pressure, a loud snap reverberated across the room.

Oh well, it’s not like she’ll need it anymore.

He summoned his house elves, and instructed them to clean up the mess. Two more names were added to the ceiling, written in the respective blood of the victims. Henrik made sure Ravenclaw was alright, before he swept from the room. His footsteps were quiet, and as his hood was up, no one noticed him nor stopped him.

Good, he deserved some bloody rest.

When Henrik entered the room, Draco was already in bed, back against the headboard and a book balanced precariously on his knees. He looked as Henrik shut the door, the light glinting off of his reading glasses.

“You’re late,” he accused, even as he rose to greet Henrik with a kiss.

Henrik sighed, ruffling his hair and dropping his formal wear. He’ll pick them up come morning. Or Draco will. Or the house elves will. “I had to deal with members from the Order.”

“Oh?”

“Lavender Brown and Angelica Johnson. Do you remember them? They went to school with us.” Henrik added, pulling on his sleeping trousers.

Draco huffed. “Yes, of course. They were in Gryffindor. Purebloods, I believe. What a waste.”

“Your pureblood supremacy is showing, love.” Henrik teased. Draco made a face, pushing with more force than necessary to help Henrik into a split. The latter sighed as he bend his toes forward. Stretching was a nightly ritual, their way of winding down.

“What triggered the attack this time?” Draco finally asked after several moments.

Henrik allowed the topic change. “Brown mentioned something about Ron dying. I believe she was referring to Ronald Weasley.”

Draco shrugged. “Makes sense. They were recently engaged, after all.” A grin tugged at his lips. “Wait until the Weaslette hears about this.”

Henrik exhaled. “Must you insult my second-in-command in this way, love? She has proven herself to be more than a muggle-loving girl.”

Indeed, Ginerva Weasley has grown up well. She was no longer the love-struck fool, trailing after the Boy-Who-Lived in the halls of Hogwart. These days, she is commonly compared to Bellatrix Lestrange.

Which would make Henrik Voldemort, and wasn’t that a weird thought?

“And yet the company she keeps leaves much to be desired.”

“Dean Thomas is a perfectly fine man, love.”

“He’s a half-blood!”

“And so am I, _love_.”

Draco quieted, finally realizing he might have stepped out of line. He helped Henrik finish his stretches in silence. It is only when Henrik does to extinguish the light does he finally apologize.

Henrik relented. He understand it is hard to change a mindset after one has grown up in it for eighteen years. And he knows his consort is trying. Draco doesn’t publicly sneer at Muggles anymore, and he can hold a relatively peaceful conservation with Muggleborns. Henrik just wished the same would hold true in private settings.

“You’re forgiven,” is what he finally said, holding Draco in his arms. The room is dark and the duvet is heavy upon their bodies. May nights in Northern England were still chilly, but Draco warms him quickly. Their legs were intertwined. Their hands were locked.

They were in love.

**Author's Note:**

> check out my tumblr [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/stac-cato)
> 
> thanks for reading! kudos and comments are always appreciated


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